


Eye for an Eye Leaves Everyone Blind

by StillTicksAway



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novel)
Genre: Boyfriend to Death content, Strade being Strade, You know what to expect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 19:49:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7545691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StillTicksAway/pseuds/StillTicksAway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gato suggested Strade might die after this scene.  Let's run with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eye for an Eye Leaves Everyone Blind

**Author's Note:**

> I slammed this out, and most of it is that particular storyline (much of it is quoting, the word choice in the game is too spot on to), but from Strade's POV. It was fun to write tho. They/them for your nameless character. Thanks to the BTD crew for this game.

This one had been a fun one. Had. They were a drunk, and wouldn’t be missed anytime soon. Strade read desperation well. Some people just gave it off: hunched shoulders, trying to make themselves smaller in a crowd, uncertain.

No, that was ridiculous. Some noticed. Some struggled. It wouldn’t be fun without the struggle. This one tried the silent treatment, but only for a moment. They spoke. And screamed. They’d tried to stop themselves after the first time, but would still scream. Nodded once Strade asked if they wanted stitches to keep from crying out more.

Such beautiful screams.

He wanted to hear more of them.

So he had to leave, had to behave and draw it out more.

And then in the morning, they accepted the protein bar, becoming more pliant. Breaking.

They chose the hammer, with a shaking finger. He would have preferred the drill, but they had chosen with the look of terror in their eyes. Offering a choice wasn’t a first day activity. They had to break some before they’d be willing to choose.

Was kicking him after they’d chosen a sign that he should have been on his guard more?

No. Flittering between fight and flight and freeze was typical.

They’d screamed. And screamed. And then _moaned_ , a wonderful, pleasant surprise.

Strade didn’t feel himself completely lost in the moment. That happened sometimes. And resulted in breaking them quite quickly. No, he was still being purposeful. Teasing. A moment of gentleness. And when Strade bit them. That cry held pain and want.

_Wundersch_ _öne!_

But no, Strade was not consumed, still in control.

Which was how he managed to catch the knife. His knife.

The struggling, it had been different: fight not flight. And they’d cried out in a way that wasn’t begging or pleading. There had been signs, but it was still a shock.

Strade laughed and laughed, pulling the knife from his neck.

He did not register the blood that fell down his neck. And _now_ he was lost in the moment, shaking, straddling them, already so close with a knife in hand.

Shaking. He had been shaking.

”Have you heard of the saying ‘an eye for an eye’?”

Strade’s heart pounded and he slammed their head down onto the ground.

”W-wait--“

”I know it’s meant to be more figurative…”

He dragged the knife up their face, not breaking skin, teasing their eyelid, building anticipation.

”But I’ve always liked the image.”

”Please, Strade! I’m sorry!”

”I know you are.”

He sawed the eye out. His hands were shaking, and he couldn’t keep the motion firm. When there was enough space, he reached in with his fingers, and wrenched, and pulled.

”Haaaaahaahaha. Look.”

More delicious cries.

Strade considered. “Hm. I think that saying may be no good, my _freund_. I don’t feel even yet.”

It would still need to be slow.

Strade threw the eye away, and pinned their arms above their head, and slowly, ever so slowly, lowered the knife into their gore-ridden socket.

”Don’t worry. There’s still fun to come for your body.”

Strade leaned back and took in the image, up from nailed knee, stitched up cuts, the bruised stomach, to the eye, the knife still stuck in it.

There were scratches on his arms that were bleeding. There was still a lot of struggle left in that one, even in the end.

His heart was pounding, and he was still panting. He should have felt that satisfaction that came with an end. He should have been hard. But he felt unease. Nervous? When was the last time he had felt nervous? Why would be feel nervous?

He was sweating. He felt cold.

He looked at the knife, and slowly reached for it, pulling from the eye socket. His head swam.

There was a steady stream of blood falling down his neck, and onto the body below him.

Ah.

He clapped a hand to his neck, and pushed down. He tried to stand, to go to the cabinets where he kept his first aid kit. But as he twisted, the floor jumped up to meet him.

”Ren!” He yelled. Maybe. His heart was beating so loud it was all he could hear. He clapped his hand to his throat again. “Ren!”

Ren was there, standing over him, a blur, hovering. Trembling.

Doing nothing.

Strade’s anger spiked, and he reached forward, barely able to grab at Ren’s ankle. He couldn’t grip it though, and blood was flowing between the fingers of his other hand.

Strade’s vision tunneled quickly as Ren jumped back.

Fucking Ren. Strade knew he should have gutted the fox long ago. Or choked him to death while fucking him.

Strade tried to stand, reach, do something, but only managed to flop his head to the side, and watch the blood spreading out.

He was tired. And his heart was beating so hard.

 

Thump.

 

 

Thump.

 

 

 

Thump.

**Author's Note:**

> ((I did a lot of research on what it feels like to bleed to death 0_o ))


End file.
